The Spectator

Chapter 19: Chauffeurs and What to Do With Yours

     The driver, having been jamming to his favorite throwback station, was in the middle of the best air-sax solo of his life when a very attractive woman in her early 50's rapped on the window of the limousine. He quickly turned down the volume on George Michael and rolled back the window.

     "Buenas," She smiled kindly.

     "Buenas... do you want me to move the car?" He offered.

     "Oh, no, no-- I just saw you sitting out here and I was wondering... Would you like some cafecito? Or water? Actually... we have food inside and you can come help yourself, si quieres."

     She looked at him expectantly. It was a look he knew well, the same look his own mother gave him when it was time to eat and she wouldn't be accepting no as an answer.

     "If it's no trouble...," He smiled, turning the car off. She grinned as he stepped out of the car.

     "I thought you looked hungry," She shook her head. "Bueno, let's go inside and grab you a plate—."

     The driver's cell phone began to ring. It was his client, the tall blonde guy. One of those famous Vanderbilt types. He picked it up hastily.

     "Yes, sir?"

     "Hey, Sergio, could you swing by to pick us up?"

     "Sure, boss, just give me the address," The driver put him on speaker to put the address in his GPS. Only a block away. He looked at the kind woman with sadness in his eyes. "I've got to go..."

     "Just hold on one second!" She told him, turning to jog into the house. He could hear her calling: "Cesar! Put together a plate para el pobre chauffeur!"

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     The driver picked up the four friends, plates of food and cake stacked next to him. He'd quickly thrown down the shot of cafecito the woman had offered him before heading over.

     Ella noticed the brightly colored paper plates stacked in the passenger seat with an amused smile.

     "Is that food from my parent's house?" She asked, leaning forward.

     "Oh, are you Ella?" The chauffeur asked, looking at her with some recognition now. "Your mom was telling me I'd be driving you when she came out to bring me food..."

     "That sounds like my mom... Wait, she brought it out to you? You could have just gotten down and joined the party, you know."

     "Erm, well, I don't think I'm really supposed to..." Sergio shifted uncomfortably.

     Ella frowned, before turning to Nate. "Is that how private chauffeurs work? They just sit around waiting for you in the car?"

     "Well, he's a rental while we're in Miami," He began, "But yeah, basically."

     "Huh," Her frown deepened. The upper east siders exchanged awkward glances. "We're going to be at the club for such a long time, though... Why doesn't Sergio come down with us after he parks? You can get them to let him in, can't you Serena? Nikki's has a restaurant and a sports bar..." She turned to Sergio and wagged an eyebrow, "I mean, you can't get drunk but you can at least watch the countdown!"

     Serena hesitated for a moment, but there wasn't really a reason Sergio had to stay with the car and they were going to be there for a while...

     "Sure, why not?" She grinned, "You want to watch the countdown, Sergio?"

     "Hell, yeah!" Sergio grinned. He couldn't believe his luck. He got them to the club like a bolt of lightning— Nate decided to ignore the blatant speeding because it seemed this was just the way  people got around in Miami. The club was pulsing with music.

     Serena lead the way, leaving Sergio's name with the doorman. The man looked a little surprised but jotted him down. Anything for Ms. Van der Woodsen.

     "Mrs. Humphrey," Dan muttered under his breath. Serena kissed him and dragged him into the club. Nate and Ella followed. He watched her face light up as she took in the scene. This was not Club Space or any of those dirty teenybopper infested warehouses in downtown. It was a mostly outdoor establishment right on the water, filled with people dancing, drinking and generally having a good time. Ella wandered deeper in, but lost sight of Serena and Dan.

     Nate pushed forward and grabbed her wrist.

     "I can see them, they're in the VIP section," He yelled, pulling her along. His hand slid from her wrist to her hand. It was brief, just him keeping hold of her while they cut through the thick crowd. Ella could feel the bass in her chest and was relieved when they made it to the slightly quieter VIP section.

     Serena handed out ice cold water bottles.

     "We need to hydrate! We have a long night still ahead of us... Cheers!" She raised her bottle. The other three followed suit. "To Miami!"

     "To Miami!" They exclaimed and chugged their water.

     "What time is it?" Dan asked when a complimentary bottle of rum arrived at their table. Nate started pouring out shots.

     "It's 11:45!" Ella answered, before addressing Nate's current activity. "More shots?"

     "I'm twice your size," He reminded her. "Just because you're drunk doesn't mean—."

     "I am not drunk! A couple of Coronas and a shot of rum does not a drunk Ella make," She wagged her finger comically before taking a shot glass and throwing it back.

     "Living dangerously, aren't we? Are you sure you can handle that?" Nate teased, grabbing his own shot glass. Ella rolled her eyes and turned to their friends.

     "We should dance," She announced.

     "More dancing..." Dan grumbled. "My favorite."

     "Oh quit whining," Unceremoniously, Ella stood and headed for the floor. Nate watched her walking away from him for a brief moment before downing his rum.

     "It's a club. You have to dance," He told Dan simply before taking off after Ella. Dan and Serena exchanged a look.

     "Those two..." He trailed off.

     "Yeah, well. We're not allowed to meddle, remember?" Serena stood and took his hand, hauling him up out of his seat. "Come on, handsome. I want to see your best electric slide tonight."

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 Yesenia Vazquez and the Private Chauffeur: 

1. "Buenas."

Abbreviation of "Good evening."

2. "Cafecito"

Diminutive of "Coffee."

3. "Si quieres." 

"If you want."

4. "Bueno..." 

"Well..."

5. "...para el pobre chauffeur!"

"...for the poor chauffeur!"